Hell's Angel
by trumpetvalves
Summary: Edward Mordrake isn't a monster. Victoria knows this better than anyone. But can she convince everyone else that this is true, while helping Edward save the troupe from the literal other side of him? 19th Century AU
1. It's a Freak Show

It was dark. It was always dark when they performed. A show in the light wasn't what normal people wanted to see. A show in the light was boring, almost mundane, despite the goods that were on display. It was still a few hours before the show, and the freaks were meandering about. The buzz of excitement was swarming. Although this wasn't the life a lot of them would've chosen, many of them loved to perform.

Frances was one of those. She was not exactly a center stage act, but she was certainly charismatic enough to try. She looked into her vanity, fixing her thick, blonde hair into delicate banana curls. Her blue eyes twinkled in the multiple candles she had in her dressing room, and she sprayed herself with expensive perfume that was gifted to her by a patron who was particularly moved by her performance. Her dress was white, and it matched her skin color. She loved her beauty. The only thing that marred it was the grotesque tail that poked its way through the back of her pretty dress. It was what made her a home here, instead of in the home of a high society husband. Her tail was a thick, two foot long, skin covered mass that poked out from her tail bone. It was able to be moved slightly, which is what she did in her act.

Next to her sat her companion, a man in his early twenties. He, too, prepared himself for the performance, combing back his hair to show the mutilation that was upon his neck and the right side of his face. He wasn't ashamed like Frances was of her freakish attribute, but he wasn't necessarily as proud of it as some of the others. "Frances, we must eat something before we perform. You know how I can't perform on an empty stomach."

"I know. However, you must wait. I have to be beautiful." She said. He rolled his eyes, and lifted himself out of the chair. He swung her over his shoulder, to which she hardly protested. As long as she was being carried, she didn't have to walk. Her tail hindered that ability slightly, so it was really a favor. Outside the dressing room, a rushing form crashed into the pair.

"Gregory, Frances. Good to see you." The voice sounded breathless. It belonged to a girl, long and slender, her body able to contort itself into many impossible shapes. Her smile was a very hurried one, as though she were late to something important. She adjusted the revealing outfit she was clad in, her lithe, long fingers contrasting with the dark fabric of the leotard. She looked nervous.

"What is the matter, Ellie?" The blonde girl asked, tilting her upside down head crookedly to look at her. She smiled reassuringly, the younger girl looking increasingly more apprehensive in the shifting lights of the camp grounds.

"Oh, Francie, it's awful! I was warming up, as you know. I like to do it in the grass. And then those boys from town, they were- oh, Francie. They were _leering_. They made comments. I can't perform tonight! I simply can't!" She wailed. Although Ellie was one for the dramatics, Frances was moved. She knew that the girl wasn't used to the treatment that the freaks received, she knew that they were all a little more seasoned than the mousy girl.

"Greg, put me down." She whispered. Her feet landed on the dirt, and she padded over to the teenager. "Hey, sweetheart, my love, listen to me alright? Go talk to Victoria. She knows exactly what you should do, okay? Go find her." She had wrapped her arms around Ellie, even though Frances was terrible with emotions or anything of the sort. She hated it, actually.

Ellie nodded, and walked away, off to find Victoria. The familiar faces were slightly calming, but she was still very shaken up. Victoria would be a good person to talk to. She had probably dealt with the same thing she just had. She could feel her lower lip begin to tremble as the young woman's face came into view. Victoria saw her and smiled, but that smile began to fade as she saw the tears that were glistening in the bird-like girl's eyes.

"Ellie whatever is the matter, dear?" Victoria asked, eyeing the girl with curiosity. Ellie told her the story, to which Victoria smiled a little. Ellie looked confused at her response.

"Are you- are you _laughing_? Why are you laughing? There isn't anything funny! How dare you, I come to you for comfort and sympathy after Frances's prompting and you're laughing! I can't beli-"

"Ellie, stop raving. You're going to be just fine, okay? I promise. Those boys will be here tonight, but remember you have nothing to worry about. You have a whole troop of freaks, and you know that if Steven or Gregory or any one of us hears a single word of any of that nonsense, those boys will be much more upset than you are." Victoria comforted her, and brushed a lock of mousy brown hair behind her ear. "Listen, my lovely, you have to go get pretty. You have a show to perform very soon, as you know. Go see if someone will do your make up or your hair nicely, okay? Go see if Tess is busy. It'll make you feel better!"

"Thank you Victoria, I feel much better. Have you seen Tess?"

"No problem, dear. I saw her a little while ago with Steven, somewhere in that direction." She pointed in the way she came. "Go find her; I'm sure she'd love to do that." The flexible teenager smiled and glided in that direction. Victoria was an older sister to many of the people in the troop. Although many others were older than her and far wiser, she was fairly compassionate when she wanted to be. She understood the struggles the freaks went through, and very well. She thought back to the times before she was here, and she sighed. She continued to walk in the direction she was before Ellie came. Her corseted dress was almost uncomfortably tight. High fashion wasn't important to the freaks, but it helped her feel more confident when she performed if she had a semblance of the current fashion.

She needed to go to the big top, which why she was entirely ready. She needed to help set up, she assumed. Although because of her condition, lifting heavy things wasn't really an option. She still could still move a chair or too around. Without doing something, she'd feel fairly useless. The show was soon, and she couldn't be more excited. She loved performing, even though her performance involved pulling all of her joints out of their sockets. She couldn't wait, and she was sure she wasn't the only one.


	2. Lust

Victoria was bone tired. Shows always made her exhausted. She lay on the stage, her arms and legs splayed, relaxing before having to make the long trek back to her tent. The constant pulling her joints out made her loathe to walk back to the tent, even if it was to sleep. The show went well- she loved the horrified "ooh's" and "aahh's" that accompanied each of their acts. It was almost like their world was something mystical. Victoria couldn't imagine how that the hordes of people that came to see them could be anything but amazed. Even Jasper looked pleased following the show, his top hat doing a slight dip before he allowed himself to clap along with the audience. It was his freak show, after all. She was glad that he was happy with them, because it was always catastrophic when he was upset.

Her musing was interrupted by a loud clatter to left stage. It startled her. Who would be out here at this hour? Everyone had already gone to bed, hadn't they? She glanced up to see a shadow standing on the stage a few feet away from her. "Hello?" She called out, squinting in the dim light. She saw the shadow step further into the sliver of light nearest her. She recognized the shape immediately. It was Jasper. As though, by some miracle, he had known she had even slightly considered him in her thoughts. He wasn't a cruel man by any means, just a lover of perfection, as well as beautiful things.

"Hello, my dear. How are you tonight?" He inquired, looming over her form. She sat up quickly, and glanced up at him. His eyes looked hazy. He was drunk, and she knew that this would be a long night if she couldn't escape him.

"I'm good, Jasper. How are you?" She glanced into the face above her, seeing a glimmer of his blonde hair. It was slowly whitening, she noted. Jasper had never told her his age, but she felt he was close to 45, give or take a few years.

"Good, good. The performance went well tonight, don't you think? I hope you do think so. I hope that isn't what has you awake at this ungodly hour." She could hear the slightly slurred speech and she had to brace herself for the conversation he'd more than likely want to have. Whenever Jasper drank and ran into her, it was always the same topic.

"No, don't you worry about me, sir. I was just resting. You know how trying these performances can be." She laughed and saw him inhale a deep breath before joining her with a slight chuckle. Jasper hardly laughed, or smiled for that matter. This was a rare occurrence.

"You all did very well. You, Steven, Frances…" He trailed off, naming almost every performer. He enjoyed his lists, but all that mattered was that one name.

Frances.

"Yes, you're right. Everyone did well. I hope you don't mind if I retire, it is getting late." She lifted herself up and attempted to bid him good night, but before she could get to the exit of the big top, his voice broke the carefully crafted silence.

"Why doesn't she love me, Victoria?"

"Jasper. You know now isn't the time for this, nor am I the person. You know my thoughts on the whole thing." She was levelheaded about the situation, but Frances was so youthful. Her vanity had yet to be squashed, and her love of attention had attracted the wrong sort. Jasper didn't love. He lusted. But he just as easily confused the two. Jasper knew all of this, and yet he still sought the young woman out. For comfort or what, she wasn't sure.

"I know. I just- why?"

"Talk to her about it, perhaps. I'm not the person to ask."

She heard a long, wistful sigh from somewhere behind her, as well as the sound of her shoes scuffing along on the grass as she made her exit. She was far too exhausted for the ramblings of a drunken man. She was far too exhausted for the purity of love to become confused with the lust of beauty and youth, once again. Frances had every idea of the man's intentions, and she was repulsed. His age repulsed her. His objectification flattered her, the attention he delivered flattered her. But he wasn't beautiful, and Frances's immaturity allowed no room to search for the beauty in things when it wasn't on the surface.

Those were other people's problems that she once again found herself involved in. She cared for people deeply, but not when they were selfish. There was no time for selfishness in their line of work. As she trudged back to her tent, she swore she heard another pair of footsteps besides her own. She paused in her trek and turned around, calling out, "Jasper please. I am far too exhausted."

But it wasn't Jasper.

She was face to face with Edward, and she jumped. She hadn't expected anyone to be so close behind her. She found herself sprawled out on the ground, surrounded by the multiple layers that her dress was composed of. What a fool she must have looked.

"Edward Mordrake!" She hissed as she glared at him. She wasn't particularly upset with him, but embarrassed and tired. He seemed to be in shock, before his finely tuned manners returned to the forefront of his thinking.

"Oh, Miss Victoria! I am terribly sorry. Here, let me help you up." He said as he extended a hand forward to assist her. He was careful not to pull on her too hard as he lifted her, as he didn't want to add injury to insult. He couldn't believe the fool he had just made of himself! He simply wanted to talk to her. Not only did he scare her, but he also potentially injured her.

She stood up and brushed herself off. "Edward, what have I told you? My name is Victoria." She wasn't nearly as embarrassed now as she looked into his face, searching in the darkness for those calming brown eyes of his. "What were you doing out at this time of night? It's late, you know."

"Yes, I do know. And I could ask you the same question." What could he tell her he was doing? Would she just assume that he was trying to harm her? "I just wanted to talk to you, make sure you were alright. But it would appear that I am incredibly foolish, and I have once again made a mess of things." He loved being around her, even if they weren't particularly close. She was lovely. And he was a monster. What kind of _closeness _could that combination ever bring? He sighed. "I will bid you goodnight, if you wish."

"No, no. I would much prefer if you'd- you'd escort me back to my tent. I thought you were Jasper. He's rather intoxicated and lustful this evening. Of course, it's not towards me," she assured him after the slight look of horror appeared across his face, "but Frances, as you know."

"Of course, dear lady, I wouldn't want you in any sort of trouble. You're in good hands with me." He felt incredibly silly after he spoke. She didn't need him to look after her, although that was what she was implying. His worries were assuaged after she smiled with relief. Perhaps company was what she needed. He could supply company, although not the very good kind. He extended his arm out for her, so he could escort her properly. She linked her arm with his and rested her hand on his arm. She appreciated the muscle that she felt there, taught and thin, but altogether pleasing. She berated herself for thinking in such a way, and opened her mouth to speak as they began to walk.

"Thank you. You know, it's not common for our kind to experience fear. But I suppose it's a woman's way." She said, shaking her head. Fear wasn't uncommon before this place. But here? With men like Edward? There wasn't much of a worry.

"Don't you worry, Victoria. You're perfectly safe without me, but I don't think the company hurts."

After strolling with light small talk along the way, they arrived at her tent. She thanked him warmly, and he boldly kissed her hand goodnight. She could feel her face heating as he walked away. He was surprisingly forward for such a polite man, though they had barely had more than small talk. She watched him walk away momentarily, and noticed his other face glaring menacingly in her direction, its mouth moving.

She walked into her tent and pretended she didn't.

**A/N Sorry things are getting off to a slow start, but things will pick up soon! Please drop a review my way. **


	3. The Morning After

The sun was brightly shining through a crack in her tent. It was far too bright for Victoria when she opened her eyes, stretching her arms high above her head. She groaned and lied in her bed, willing herself to get up but entirely too warm to rise. She found herself smiling as she thought about last night's encounter with the oh-so-polite Edward Mordrake. Of course, it was quite funny- he assumed, probably, that knocking her over had perhaps injured her. Of course, like everyone who assumed such nonsense, he was wrong. She was impermeable to pain. She couldn't feel freezing or burning, or two strong men pulling her arms hard in opposite directions. Edward knocking her to the ground was the least pain-inducing event that had occurred that evening, following her performance.

She threw her blanket off of her groggy form and put it back in its place. Her white night dress was long and trailed behind her as she selected a dress to wear for the day. She checked the time on her pocket watch, noting it was 8:00 am. It was a gift from her brother a few years ago when he came to see one of her shows. He said it was something she would find useful. It was, although it was hard to hide in a dress. It was designed for a waistcoat, which Victoria did not wear. She kept it wrapped in a handkerchief and in the bosom of her dress, this way it was kept safe. She hadn't seen her brother since he came to see her, and he had moved out west with his wife to "start over," as he put it. She wasn't sure what there was for him to "start over" from, but she was sure it was something that felt right to him and that was important.

Selecting a plain green dress, she undressed and slipped it on. It was a nice dress, and one of her favorites. She was in a fairly good mood, and it was a beautiful day outside. She opened the flap to her tent and stepped outside, seeing the resident fat lady, Lilian Castor.

"Good morning!" Lilian called, red hair looking glossy in the gleaming morning sun. Lilian was a warm, round Irish woman in her mid-30's. She was very matronly, although she wasn't particularly old. Today, she carried a box covered in brown paper.

"Good morning, Lilian. What do you have in the box? Is it a special occasion of some sort?"

"Nothing special, everyone likes receiving presents on occasion. It's for Steven." She lowered her voice then, an unnecessary precaution since no one was around, "It's a new pair of suspenders. His current pairs are lookin' a little worn out."

"That's sweet of you. He's going to love it. You didn't- you didn't steal them, did you?" Victoria hushed her voice slightly, a hand covering her mouth to shield her giggle when Lilian nodded. Lilian had a tendency to steal things from men that she was… intimate with. Lilian was a prostitute, as her body type was a rarity. The audience appreciated looking at it, and some appreciated it even more, paying a little bit more for a "private showing" and even more for the chance to touch. Lilian did very well for herself, raking in plenty of money after each performance. She did like to collect the occasional souvenir.

"This one was very heavy. I'm sure his weight will accommodate Steven's height." Lilian nodded assuredly as she glanced at the box, considering. Steven was known to the public as the "Tallest Man Alive." Or, at least, that's what it said on the advertisements.

"Well, I won't keep you waiting. Steven will be very excited to get his new suspenders." The women said their goodbyes and continued on their separate ways. Victoria was starving, and wanted to eat something more than she wanted to have small talk with other performers.

When she arrived to the dining hall, which was yet another tent with most of the fixings of a kitchen, she saw the table where the food was lain out for consumption. She selected a bowl of oatmeal. Nothing was particularly hot, and all of the options were oatmeal, but it was enough to sustain her for the morning. She scouted for an empty seat among the performers and crew of the show. Spotting an empty seat, she sat down in it.

"Good morning, Miss Victoria." She heard the gentle lilt of the male she was in the company of the following evening and smiled.

"Edward. Good morning. I recall requesting a simple Victoria earlier today. Am I mistaken?" She questioned him and looked up from her food. The man next to her couldn't help but feel slightly embarrassed. She was right. She had requested to be called Victoria.

"No, no. You are correct. My apologies." He said, nodding his head, "How are you today?" He questioned. She smiled, then took a spoonful of oatmeal and ate it. Her stomach appreciated it very much.

"I'm faring well." She asked him the same, which he responded to in kind. "Did you sleep well last night?" She knew the answer. The bags under his blue eyes spoke volumes.

"Not really, no. I was having trouble sleeping." He told her, running a gloved hand over his neat hair. "Of course, it wasn't too terrible. I had a pleasant time before bed, which didn't hurt." He smiled. He felt a little charming at the slight pink color that crossed her cheeks briefly after his comment. He'd never made a woman blush before.

"Well, thank you." She said, genuinely happy that she had given him a pleasant time. He was always so sullen. She assumed it was because of his condition more often than not, but she liked the smile that had graced his face moments ago. It was satisfying to know she could have such an effect on him.

"Ladies, gentleman, freaks of all ages! I have an announcement to make." Jasper entered the dining hall, full of his usual grandeur and arrogance, "We have a very important guest attending the show this coming Thursday. Of course, all of our guests are important," he said making a sweeping gesture with his hand, "but this is the most important I think we have had. Now, I won't tell you who this special guest is, because it will ruin the surprise. But I would be excited if I was you." Jasper left as abruptly as he had come, the same stride he had arrived with accompanying him out.

"I hate that." Victoria frowned.

"What? What do you hate?"

"Freaks. That's such a dirty word. He uses it like it's supposed to be endearing or something of the sort. It's cruel." She was very cross. She wasn't even remotely excited for this guest. The guest was probably a reporter of some sort, here for publicity.

"It's not wrong though." Edward calculated, his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. He didn't want her to get upset, but that was what they were.

"No, you're wrong. How can you think that? You're absolutely wrong and I don't want to hear you say that around me ever again."

Edward appreciated her outspokenness. She was honest and lovely, and he was confused as to what this sudden influx of emotion was. He knew his other side wouldn't stand for it. Since Victoria had arrived, his other half had been particularly quiet. It was unusual.

Edward was worried.

**A/N Thank you for all the kind reviews! I'm so glad you all appreciated this story, I didn't think it'd get much of an audience. Keep up the happy reading! **


	4. Monster

Edward stood in his tent, pacing back and forth. He could feel the headache begin as his other face whispered to him, cruel and vile things that he would never want to subject himself to hearing. He was raised a proper gentleman, the kind that was supposed to detest freaks. He wasn't supposed to _be _one. At least that was something he did correctly. He did detest himself. He was an absolute monster, and he had so much fear that he would destroy everything he had created for himself at the freak show. He had been locked away in that disgraceful asylum. He wasn't insane, only cursed. Although, he supposed, there wasn't much of a difference.

_You're higher than these people, better than these people. _

_You should just wipe them off the earth, eradicate them. _

_Edward, you're a bloodthirsty monster. _

Edward heard this voice saying these things time and time again. The demon was constantly taunting him, driving him to the point of insanity. He could feel himself slowly losing his resolve, his carefully plated façade of everything being fine besides the mute face on the back of his own. As far as everyone else was concerned, the other face could very well be mute. He was the only one who could hear the face, which obviously didn't help his constant pleas of sanity when he was locked away. The freak show was as good a place as any for him. He fit in here more than most places, besides his awkward demeanor and his clear aversion of opium and alcohol. He didn't want to let his guard down. What could be harmless intoxication for some could be the difference between whether Edward gave into the demon's bloodlust or not.

Edward jumped when he heard a small voice through the crack in his tent.

"Hello?" It said, clearly feminine and also clearly nervous. He couldn't quite place whom it belonged to, as there were a few young women in the troupe, but he knew which one it wasn't.

"Hello. Do you need something?" He called back, inching his way towards his tent exit. He adjusted his black suit jacket and pulled the flap back, coming face to face with a beautiful blonde girl. He smiled, tipping his hat, and joined her outside. "Anything I can assist you with?"

"Well, yes, there is." She said, nervously twisting a lock of long, golden hair. She opened her mouth to speak, debating with herself whether or not _Edward _was the one she should be trusting with something of this manner, but there wasn't anyone else. Besides, Edward was well off somewhere, although he wasn't necessarily still in possession of such wealth. She wasn't sure. There was a lot of uncertainty surrounding all aspects of this grandiose idea she'd thought of. "I, well, I want to leave this place. And I need your help to do it."

"Francis, why would you want to leave?" He could hear the whispers of his other face asking for him to ask directly for her deepest suffering, but he couldn't bear to see the gorgeous girl cry. Her big blue eyes were already glistening, and Edward had no idea how to handle a crying girl. He wished she'd have gone to Victoria, as Edward was sure she'd know what to do.

"Oh, Edward!" She cried, dramatically throwing herself into his arms and shaking with sobs. "I can't do this anymore. I like it here, I do. But-" she broke off as a sob shook her body and caused her voice to break. She was being dramatic, even Edward could tell, but as a lady of high class he could relate to the way she was acting. He had seen many a lady swoon for less than Francis had seen, so he had to give her some credit. Edward patted her back gently, hushing her with sentiments of reassurances. "I was supposed to be married to a gentleman! A man of class! Someone that my parents would approve of. But I'm here and I want to be with my mother and I want to be courted by a gentleman and I can't stand this stupid tail!" By the time she finished her tirade, she was out of his arms and seething, her mouth set in a firm line.

"Dear lady, do not fret. You are not alone here." He said, gesturing to himself, "My parents are far more disappointed in me than yours are of you, I assure you. I'm sure if you genuinely wanted to continue the life that you were born into, you could. But the truth of the matter is your tail would have to be removed, or you would have to lie to the man you marry. No one out there is accepting, no one who is normal is going to look at you the way you deserve to be looked at." He saw her smile, knowing that flattery was a way to make this woman feel better.

"You're right, Edward. However, my mother is a wonderful woman. She accepts me as I am. But I fear men in my class have already heard tales of my deformity." She sighed, and shrugged. "Although, I'm sure there's someone out there for me to marry, regardless of my parents approval." Her smile spoke like she had someone in mind. "There's also hope for you, Edward. Marriage isn't out of the question for you."

He had never thought of marriage as a real possibility for himself, not with the demon face constantly behind him. He would enjoy being in love, he supposed, though it baffled him. Who would love him? Who would look at him like he'd seen women look at handsome men that danced with them at balls he had attended? Surely that wasn't really a possibility. He was surrounded with people like him, but he still couldn't imagine one of them loving him.

"Nor you, my dear lady. You attract attention everywhere you go, and not just because of your extra appendage." He tipped his hat. "Do you still want to run away? After this quickly shifting exchange, I certainly hope you continue to grace us with your lovely visage."

"Well, I'm less inclined to do it. I'm sorry for acting so foolishly, Edward. You must have been so startled. A crying girl throwing herself at me would've been quite a shock." She giggled behind her hand, porcelain cheeks reddening with embarrassment. He thought to himself that she'd make a good wife for a wealthy man, the kind that other ladies are envious of.

"Freedom such as this will treat a young lady like you marvelously. I see that it already has. You're much warmer towards everyone, and you've made friends with the whole troupe more or less. You should wait a little while to rush into marriage. I know you feel old in society, but happiness is a good look for you. Marriage sometimes changes that." He hoped she wouldn't take his compliments for more than friendly comfort, but he also knew that she received this kind of attention all the time.

"Why thank you, Edward. You are a sweet man." She kissed his cheek and he felt them flush under her lips. "Thank you for talking me out of leaving, Edward. You're a kind man." He watched her saunter away as they said their goodbyes, and wondered what there was to do with the rest of the morning. Tonight their guest would be arriving, and he had to make sure Victoria wasn't working herself into the ground.

**A/N: Thank you for reading! If you could kindly review, I would appreciate it. I would also like to thank all of my wonderful reviewers. **


	5. The Visitor Part 1

**A/N: Sorry for taking such a long time to update! Writer's block is a monster. **

Victoria was doing her best to make the tent look the best it could. Of course, it wasn't as though there was much she could do for the grass floor, but the carpet they had running the length of the middle could certainly use a good sweeping. Equipping herself with a broom, she started her sweeping. She could hear the rustling of decorations as the other performers moved around her, trying their own hand at making the tent look as good as it possibly could. It wasn't as though the tent was raggedy, but it wasn't particularly spectacular either. She turned her head sharply as she heard something shatter loudly and frowned, intended to give a stern talking to whoever broke whatever they broke.

Her eyes fell on a bashful Gregory, head bent in embarrassment. He probably felt a small semblance of fear. She didn't have a temper as much as she had a need for perfection, so she walked over to him and the shattered vase that he was standing over. "I'm sorry, Victoria." He looked so ashamed, and she wasn't exactly sure why.

"It's quite alright Gregory. But you must also be aware that I wouldn't be that disappointed. Is something else going on?" Gregory shook his head, not in a way that was denial, but more like she couldn't tell him.

"Nothing, wouldn't I tell you? Just trust me." He assured her. She couldn't say she fully did and wanted to discuss it with him, but she also didn't want to stir up any dust when their important visitor was arriving in under an hour. She decided that she could figure out what was going on later. She advised him to pick up the glass and continued on her way, his behavior striking her as quite out of character. He normally would be apologetic, but the shame that was written across his face was odd enough to probably alert even Francis, who wasn't particularly talented when it came to reading others. She could feel her eyebrows furrowing together as she once again busied herself, deep in thought. She wanted to make sure that nothing was amiss. Perhaps investigating Gregory further would be beneficial to her ultimate goal, but she wouldn't want to make something out of nothing.

She jumped when Francis came charging in, her shrill voice calling loudly about the first sign of the shows visitor and his entourage. Victoria looked around, feeling as though they were hardly done. She whipped her hands on her dress and straightened up fully, noticing Edward standing slightly behind her. Victoria felt a pang of jealously.

"Maybe if you two had been in here helping, we would be closer to finished. But now they're almost here and we have so much left to do." She felt the bite in her voice and saw Edward shrink back, accompanied by a slight look of shock from Francis direct itself at her. She couldn't go back on what she said, but she hoped the look of apology that flashed across her face conveyed to her friends that she didn't mean it so harshly. She couldn't help it. Francis was beautiful and Edward was from the same social class as she was. It would make sense for them to be conducting a clandestine relationship, she supposed. Pushing thoughts of that into the back of her mind, realizing how ridiculous it truly sounded, she smiled, "Well, now that you're here, you can help us!" She felt the tension in the room gradually lessen, and she directed them to help Gregory.

She was still very excited for the visitor, after all, and it was very important that everything looked as good as it could for their arrival.

The visitor finally had an identity. Or, Edward mused to himself, visitors. His fingers danced across the piano keys as he performed for the world-famous Ringling Brothers. They had probably come to collect a new freak for their own freak show, as it was quite common for the brothers to look at smaller shows to collect their talent. If a freak was selected for their show, they had really made it big. Hopefully they didn't want him, though. He was comfortable here. He trusted the people here, and was fairly unwilling to uproot his entire life. He didn't want to be a famous freak. He didn't even want to be a freak in the first place. He trusted everyone in the troupe and he didn't want to uproot himself because trust was a difficult thing for him to develop.

He finished his act and stood, taking his hat off and bowing. He heard the familiar, horrified gasp of the crowd and smirked bitterly. He got off the stage and watched the other acts from back there, not always having the interest or the mental state to watch them all. They were all strangely beautiful, not horrific. Not like him, anyway.

He felt someone slink up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder. He assumed it was Victoria, and covered her small hand with his own. He could feel it shaking against his shoulder. She didn't want to leave this place, either. Maybe she didn't want him to leave, either.

"Edward?" Her voice quivered as she whispered his name. He nodded, running his thumb over her hand as he lowered both of their hands, grasping her dainty one in his own. "I'm scared." He nodded his agreement as they watched the others perform. He realized that if she left, it would kill him. He wouldn't be able to handle that. He was thankful that not many of the others had stayed to watch the final acts, or this moment would have been quite different. He was sure that she was just seeking comfort, and perhaps that comfort would have been sought in someone else's arms.

"Do not fret, my dear." He said quietly. He felt her shift her weight and lean into his side. He welcomed the forwardness of the action. He required comfort as well. He was glad she wasn't afraid on him. He was glad that she needed someone, and she chose him.

He felt her shaking gradually stop and for once, Edward felt as far away from a monster as she was.


End file.
